Hold Me
by KissingFire
Summary: Best friends. He was secretly in love with her, and she not-so-secretly thought he was kind of a slut. When she gets stood up, and he's there to comfort her, secrets are unintentionally revealed, changing their friendship.


**Little o/s. All human. OOC. Fluffy.**

**Rating: T for language. And some pervertedness. **

**Disclaimer: Uh, yeah. If I owned TMI, Jace would be _real._The movie would be _premiered. _And yet I don't own it. :'( So none of this has happened.**

***sobs***

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><p><strong>Jace<strong>

_"He stood me up."_

That one little text had me crawling out my window at eight p.m., jumping out of the apple tree that's right outside my window, and crossing the lawn to my best friend's house, which was, conviently, right beside mine.

I stood under her window, and looked up. _"Clary," _I hissed, knowing if her father heard me, he'd probably shoot me. Her mother might just threaten to call the police, like last time.

The green curtains that were pulled over her window, didn't move.

_Crap._

I sighed, and reached down, picking up a rock the size of a baby's fist. Tossed it up and down a couple of times, testing its weight. Then, I cocked my arm back, and threw the rock lightly at her window.

_I really REALLY hope I don't break her window._

It brushed against the glass, before dropping.

_Whew._

The ivy-green curtains were pushed aside, the window pulled up. A small head, full of glossy red curls, popped out. "Jace?" I heard her whisper in a husky, raw voice she got whenever she was crying. My fists clenched at my sides. _I was gonna kill that asshole. _

"I'm right here, babe," I called up in a stage-whisper. "I'm gonna need something to help me climb up, though."

I heard a soft sniffle, and saw her profile give a small nod before vanishing back into her room.

Rocking back on my heels, I glanced up. Rope fell from her window, landing in an unceremonious pile on my feet.

I pulled myself up, ignoring the pain when a loose nail got caught in my palm, tearing a deep cut down to my wrist.

Swinging myself over her window-sill, I felt my mouth drop open as I took her in.

I'd known Clary since we'd been snot covered five-year-olds, throwing sand into eachothers hair. (Though I threw more of a fuss over sand in my hair than Clary ever did.) I'd been in love with her since we were eight.

I guess I'd finally realized it when she "saved" me from three douchebags who had shoved my face into the water fountain after recess and taunted me for my father abandoning me and my mother.

One of them was Clary's brother, which I didn't understand, since he'd play with us outside, sometimes. Clary showed up, kicked the other two in the balls, and screamed at Jonathon. Her red hair was out of its braids, for once, and her hair was wild and curly, like a lion's mane. After he left, she walked over to where I stood, shaking and with a black eye, and hugged me.

That was when my brotherly feelings disappeared.

I've done a good job at hiding it, in my own way. I played with girls, broke girls' hearts, with Clary on the sidelines, shaking her head.

_Hypocrite. As if she hasn't been breaking my heart since she's started dating._

Sebastian Verlac.

One of said douchebags who slammed me into that water fountain. I mean, I got my revenge, of course. Cornered him in fifth grade at the end of school, and ended up breaking his nose.

But Clary, it turns out, forgot all about the damn water fountain, when he came back to school last year from summer vacation, filled out, his hair longer, and braces and glasses gone.

The dude was a freakin' lumberjack.

Girls tripped over their own damn feet to talk to me. Girls threw themselves at me. Girls _slept _with me, for Christ's sake. But the only one I ever wanted, thought I was a manwhore, and was my best friend.

I mean, I am kind of a manwhore, but that's not the point...

When Sebastian asked her to prom, two weeks ago, Clary was squealing so loud through the phone, I ended up coming over to her house to see if I'd be able to understand her better in person. She was practically vibrating, and threw herself into my arms and told me that Verlac had asked her out.

I hugged her, kissed her cheek, told her how happy I was that she was going, and left immediately, telling her I had homework. She was so excited, the thought that I never did my homework slipped her mind.

I now had a fist-sized hole in my wall, right beside my bed.

Like a coward, I avoided Clary for the past two weeks, ignoring her texts of what she should wear, if Sebastian talks to me about her, who I was going with.

Nobody.

I've had thirteen girls on Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, Email, and text, asking if I'd go to Prom with them.

I'd been planning on asking Clary, but now that that's a lost cause, I'd been planning on staying home, and watching movies even my mother would think was too cheesy, and my friends would most likely try to pull down my pants to make sure my balls were still in check.

But no dice. This was one of Clary's texts I actually decided to answer.

The asshole _stood her up._

I stared at her.

Clary looked...shit, she looked _broken._

She was wearing a pearl white dress that hugged every curve, and poofed out at her hips, creating a ball-gowny feel. Her red hair was down, like I'd always loved it, and flowed in curls down to her waist. Tear tracks seemed to glow silver in the crescent moonlight, and her bright green eyes, which to me always seemed to be laughing or sparkling or some romantic shit like that, were sad and full of self-loathing.

"Clary?" I whispered. She was on her knees, her mascara-Which she's never worn before, so she'd probably spent hours on it-was running down her face, mixing with her tears. "Are you alright, babe?"

I winced at how stupid that sounded; _Of course she wasn't alright._

Clary gave a small hiccup/sob, and held out her arms, silently asking for me to hug her.

I knelt in front of her, and pulled her onto my lap, wrapping my arms familarly around her waist. Clary's wet face was pressed into my neck, and she began crying.

I glanced down, and inwardly sighed when I saw the new mascara stains on the collar of my white tee. _If it wasn't Clary, I probably would've dropkicked any other girl out the window. This was my dad's shirt._

She seemed to notice the stain. Clary pulled her face slightly out of my neck, and hiccuped again. "I'm sorry about your shirt," she croaked in a soft voice.

I shook my head. "It's cool." She laid her head back down on my shoulder, and we just sat there, silently.

Finally, I asked, "When was he supposed to be here?"

Clary gave a sob. "An hour ago," she whispered.

"That little shit." I pressed a light kiss to her cheek. "You didn't deserve him anyways, Clary."

She shook her head, and looked up at me. "Why aren't you at Prom?" She asked, seeming to realize that I was only wearing a large white tee and holey jeans. And barefoot. "I'm sure you had lots of offers," she teased, and as relieved I was to see her smiling, it still hurt she thought so little of me. Well, to me it was little. What guy wouldn't be proud to have a ton of girls wanting to go with him?

"I did." I grinned at her, though it was forced. "Except the girl I really wanted to go with already had a date."

Clary's eyes widened, and she touched my arm. "Oh, Jace, I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed, though there was a slight catch in her voice, the kind that always meant she was lying. I frowned at her: Why would she be lying?

She seemed to be sympathetic enough, though, so I let it slide. I shrugged, trying to look like I didn't care. After all, _she _was the one who'd been stood up. "It doesn't matter," I told her. "But are you...You know..." I glanced at her getup. "Still going to Prom?"

Clary shook her head. "What's the point?" She demanded, sourly. "I pretty much trashed myself, and my makeups ruined..." She pointed down at her ripped dress, where it looked like she'd torn with scissors. "And my _date _doesn't even want to go with me." She shrugged, looking like a puppet who's strings had just been cut off. Lost, limp..."I was just going to stay in," she said, tucking a loose curl behind her ear.

I sighed, and leaned against her bed, pulling my hands behind my head. "I'll stay with you," I offered. "Whatcha wanna do?"

Clary scooted over so that she sat next to me, and rested her head on my shoulder. "No idea."

_Hmmm..._

I jumped up to my feet, causing Clary to nearly crash to the hardwood floor. "Dammit, Jace!" She hissed.

"Sorry." I flashed her an apologetic half-grin. "I have an idea, what we can do..." I rocked back-n-forth on my heels, tauntingly, knowing it would piss her off.

Clary scrambled to her feet, eagerly. "Well?"

I hmm'ed, smiling sweetly at her.

She slapped my chest. "Tell me, dude!" She demanded, beginning to sound like her old self again.

"Alright, alright!" I chuckled, grabbing her wrist, and pulled her to my chest, so that I was staring down directly at her lips. Clary held her breath. "Jace..."

I chuckled again, and let go of her wrist. "Why should you miss out on Prom because of that douchebag?" I asked her.

Clary frowned at me. "What do you mean?"

I pulled my iPod out of my pocket, swinging one of the earphones at her. Still looking confused, Clary stuck the earbud in one of her ears. "Okay...?"

_Time to pull a corny move._

I gave a slow grin at her, and Clary's cheeks flushed. _Cool. The Wayland Charm is finally beginning to work on her. _

"Clary Fray," I told her in an exaggeratedly deep voice. "Would you do me the honor of dancing with you?"

She giggled.

Then she snorted.

"Seriously, Jace?" She asked between her giggles.

I masked my hurt, and grinned even wider at her. _I wouldn't let her know how much she's hurting me. _

"Well, yeah." I cocked an eyebrow at her. "It isn't everyday you get offered such a handsome piece of manmeat, you know."

Clary sobered. "Yeah." She sighed. "Until he stands me up."

_Are you freakin' kidding me?_

I let my expression smooth over like stone. "You're right," I told her, coldly.

Clary sighed, and wrapped her arms around my neck. "Can you help me forget about him?" She asked softly, her green eyes wide. "Please?"

_She's using you, Jace, _I tried to tell myself. _She'll never care more for you than a brother. Leave. Let her feel what it's like to have your heart crushed over and over again._

But I couldn't do that. I loved her, and no matter how many times she unintentionally hurt me, that would probably never change.

I gave her a weak smile, and wrapped my arms around her waist, tucking the other earbud in my ear.

We slow-danced to Paramore, her favorite band. I loved the band too, but mostly because Hayley Williams reminded me of Clary. I rested my chin on her head, and she laid her cheek on my collarbone, and I prayed to God she didn't notice how fast my heart was beating.

"Why are you doing this for me?" She asked, finally.

I closed my eyes. _Tell her. _I wanted to, so much. _It's the perfect timing. The worst thing she can do is shut you out of her life, and probably ruin your friendship._

"Because I love you."

...

...

...

She stiffened in my arms, and stopped her swaying.

I paused my music, and glanced down at her. "Clary?"

She looked up at me.

_Shit, I've made her cry again. _

"I'm sorry..." I stroked back a curl out of her face. "Do you-Do you want me to leave?"

Clary shook her head, and pulled herself free of my arms, and walked over to her bed, where she collapsed.

"Why, Jace?" She whispered, looking up at me. "Is this some sort of sick joke? Is that what this is?" She quickly dragged her armsw across her eyes, clearing her thoat. "'Cause it isn't funny."

I cocked my head at her. "Why would I be joking?"

She took a deep breath. "Did Jonathon set you up to this?" She asked through clenched teeth.

"No. Jesus, he hates me..." I shook my head. "What makes you think I'm kidding. I love you, Clary; I always have."

Clary glared at me. "No, you don't."

_What the hell? _

"See, I should've known he set you up to this." She planted her hands on her hips, and gave me a look that reminded me of her mother. _Talk about creepy..._

I stared at her. "Uh, who?"

"Jonathon. Or was it Izzy?" She scowled, and stomped her foot, looking very much like a princess who hadn't gotten her way, in her Cinderella get-up and petulant expression. "Damn, I'm gonna tell Simon what she said about his di-"

"What are you talking about?" I rubbed the back of my neck, nervously. Seriously. When I pictured confessing my love to her, I hadn't expected her to totally ignore it and move on to random crap. Slapping, screaming that she hated me, or wild sex, maybe. But, yeah. I was pretty clueless, at the moment.

"They told you I liked you!" She pulled frusteratedly at her hair.

I blinked. "Really?"

Clary froze mid-stomp, and stared at me with that deer-in-the-headlights look. She turned a bright red, and set her foot down, letting out a small, nervous laugh. "What? Pfft." She waved her hand. "I didn't say anything..."

...

...

...

Here's the thing about Clary.

She can't lie.

Like, at all.

She just naturally sucks at it.

Like one time, when we were ten, the two of us were playing inside soccer at her house, and I kicked the soccer ball at her mother's favorite vase. Which broke, when the ball hit it, obviously.

I'd damn near convinced Jocelyn that Jonathon had did it, when Clary decided to say: "Yeah. He broke the vase. Me and Jace had nothing to do with it."

I still cringe at that.

So, when she said "Pfft. I didn't say anything", I could easily pick out the lie.

That, and I'd just heard her say that she liked me.

"So..." I pulled my earphone out of my ear and threw myself onto her bed. "You like me, huh?" Yeah, so I was being an asshole. But seriously, this shit rocked. The girl I was in love with liked me. Sure, not exactly the same level I felt for her, but she would, eventually.

Clary sighed, and sank down onto the bed, next to me. "They didn't tell you?" She was sounding like she hoped they had, so she wouldn't look like an idiot. How she could feel like an idiot when she looked all gorgeous, I had no idea.

"No...Jonathon hates me, and Izzy's convinced that I'm some sort of slut." I rolled my eyes. Izzy was kind of a hypocrite. Yeah, the guys in the locker room talk.

Clary sniggered. "Um...You kinda _are _a slut, Jace."

I winked at her. "You got it, babe."

She blushed; I guess now that she's finally "told" me, the endearment I'd given her for six years has a different effect on her.

"So, uh..." She looked away. "Now that you know that I like you...Are we still friends?"

_Was she kidding? _

I sat up, staring at her incredously. "Hell, no."

Clary's face crumpled, and she covered her face with her hands. "Oh." Her voice was really small, like when she found out her mother had put her cat to sleep after many surgeries; Fluffy wasn't a very healthy cat.

"You can leave, I guess." Her voice broke.

I nearly face-palmed myself when I realized what I'd just said. Wow, I'm a douche.

"Clary." I wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Clary, no. That's not what I meant."

She pulled her hands away from her face, and spun around to glare at me through her bloodshot eyes. "What'd you mean then, Jace?" She demanded. "You don't want to be my friend, huh? How else am I supposed to take that?"

I held my hands up in a surrendering position. "Chill. Jeez." I narrowed my eyes at her. "Is that time of the month already, babe?"

She smacked me upside the head. "Just checking."

Rubbing the back of my head, where my crush had just kindly bestowed a goose-egg in my head, I grumbled. God, she was worse than my mother. "I don't wanna be your friend, Clary-"

"I got that, thanks," she snarked out, her freshly hurt expression making me feel incredibly guilty.

"...Because I wanna be your boyfriend."

She stared at me.

I snapped my fingers in front of her face. "Babe?"

She glared and grabbed at my fingers, holding them in between her hands. "Don't do that, asshole," she snapped half-heartedly. Then, softer, "Did you really mean that?"

I nodded. "Yeah. You know I wouldn't lie about that."

She cleared her throat. "So..."

"Are you seriously going to make this awkward?" I raised an eyebrow at her, knowing how it pissed her off. "Because I've seen you butt-naked, babe. Lily-white ass and all."

"You are so nasty," Clary gasped, slapping my arm. "Oh, my God. I was _eleven."_

"Yeah." I sighed, dreamily. "Isn't it sad my eleven-year-old self saw more of you than this seventeen-year-old bod' of manmeat?" I pointed at myself.

Clary rolled her eyes. "You are a pervert."

I pulled her onto my lap, wrapping my arms around her waist. "You're gonna have to put up with it," I reminded her. "'Cuz I'm your boyfriend now."

Clary grinned. "I guess so."

...

...

...

...

We danced some more. And I even let her kiss me, but I let her think it was the other way around.

"Paramore rocks," she sighed, resting her head on my chest, lips red and swollen from kissing. If she was my friend, I'd be telling her she had frog-lips. But since she's my girlfriend, now, I omit that part when I say she's beautiful. Because she is. My beautiful, frog-lipped girlfriend.

"Hayley Williams _is _kind of hot."

Clary rubbed her face against my chest. Like a kitten. Now _that's _hot, too. "If she wasn't a redhead, I'd be pissed at you for saying that."

"I love you, too." She might not have meant it, but I wanted her to know.

Clary smiled. "You already know I do." She sighed. "What are we going to do about Sebastian?"

I pressed my cheek to her hair. "Easy," I mumbled, the caveman in me wanted to roar and hit things with my club, yelling that she was _mine. _And mine only. "Tell him he's a prick and make out with me in front of him."

Clary snorted. "Believe it or not, kissing doesn't solve everything."

"Yeah? Next you're gonna be telling me Santa isn't real."

Clary sighed. "Fine. We don't approach him, and he sees for himself, or hears through other people."

"I don't care." I didn't. But if she did, then I would hide the moron's body in an abandoned cave, if it'd help.

"Jonathon'll be pissed."

"Why are you trying to make excuses?"

"I'm not. I just..." She shrugged. "I can't believe you're actually mine."

"Believe it, babe." I gave her a squeeze. "I'm yours now."

...

...

...

"Hey, Clary?"

"Yeah?"

"You know...Since it's Prom..."

"I'm wearing a dress, aren't I?"

"Do you wanna carry out tradition?"

"Which is...?"

"Ya know, Prom _Night..._"

"Enlighten me."

"I-we...Forget it."

"If you were thinking about getting in my pants, you got another thing coming, Jace."

"You aren't technically wearing pants..."

"Don't even say it."

"I'm just saying it makes it so much easier..."

"Jesus. Just shut up and hold me."

"Or...Yeah. That's nice, too."

...

...

...

...

"Jace?"

"Yeah?"

"You're still kind of a slut."

"You love me, anyway."

"Yeah. I do."

...

...

...

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><p><strong>Bumbumbumbum.<strong>

**I wrote the first two thousand words, like, three months ago. O_o I remembered it four hours ago, and decided to finish it...**

**Review...:)**


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